Michael Vick, what were you thinking?
The enigmatic PETA member was scheduled to appear on Oprah tomorrow, and now, for reasons unknown, has backed out.
That gives us more time to get these questions to Oprah. (Bleacher Reporters, don’t let me down.)
Regardless, I hear this show is not to be missed, as everyone in the audience gets a dog in a Michael Vick jersey.
Here are the top ten questions:
Well, legally, he can’t. But does he want to?
Publicly, MV would have to say yes. And he has. But like the author of the attached article (who has a much more aggressive questioning technique then Oprah), I wonder if he really means it.
Here's where I'm going with this.
One time, I drank a cinnamon-infused alcoholic beverage to the point of illness. It was a bad experience I can't help but associate with a particular substance.
Now, I avoid cinnamon.
Inquiring minds want to know. In this case, the inquiring mind of a 28-year-old dude.
Also, let’s let him cool off from the dog question people. We’re not out to bury the poor guy before the first commercial.
So c’mon Mike. Let’s hear about the lucky lady.
I’d say it’s not quite the 4.2 it used to be, but I bet it’s not too far off either. (I’ve heard message board rumblings that suggest a 4.4.)
Regardless, Vick is the fastest quarterback in the league, and while he’s not quite as videogame explosive as he used to be, that may have actually helped his game.
When you know you can get the edge, I would imagine there’s a tendency to go for it.
But now, Vick seems more apt to use his legs to buy time rather than to run, to escape rather than attack, to be a quarterback rather than an athlete.
I’m not sure if Oprah would agree to come at this question from the ‘Hey, was the Powerade Commercial real?’ angle, but that would be pretty funny.
To date, Michael Vick has the strongest arm this onlooker has ever seen, able to throw the ball 60 yards on a rope, literally without it lifting 15 feet off the ground.
Okay, we’re easing our questions back into the big leagues. (This is well paced! I’m sending it to Oprah as a writing sample.)
“Franchise Tag notwithstanding...with your contract up, and having incurred notable financial strain from your legal woes, could you afford to choose an ideal football situation over more money?”
In a perfect world, he stays in Philly. If this gets me a job on Oprah, I’ll lend Michael some of my check.
'Betterment' meaning strictly on the football field. (The rest is tough to reconcile.)
By the end of the 2006 season, the Falcons were in flux.
They were coming off a 7-9 season, hadn’t had a winning year since 2004, and had just fired their coach, Jim Mora Jr. Vick was running more, passing less, and his growth as a quarterback seemed to be stagnating.
He would never have left Atlanta had things not gone down as they did.
Now, somehow resurrected in Philadelphia with offensive-minded Andy Reid by his side, Vick is the runner up for the MVP award and has quite probably reclaimed his status as the most exciting player in the league.
Prior to 2010, Michael Vick had never had a QB rating above 81.6.
This year? 100.2.
Now this I’d like to hear.
Once poised to continue the family legacy as a top pick in the NFL Draft, the younger Vick neither fell as hard, nor recovered as gracefully as his brother.
In January of ’06, Marcus was expelled from Virginia Tech. He entered the draft but was not selected. After a short stay with the Miami Dolphins, Marcus has found himself out of football and involved in a bevy of criminal activity.
What I’d like to know is this: Where is he now, and how does Michael think that his overwhelming shadow (cast in both positive and negative light), has affected Marcus over the years.
Jeeez. Not as intrusive a question, but this is where Oprah earns the big bucks. Without her doling out some charm, there’s no way we’re getting an honest answer to that question.
My money is on Vick, who used to sport the most otherworldly set of legs we’ve ever seen. (Actually, Oprah should probably ask him who he’s dating after that sentence.)
...do you think you would've won the Superbowl?
Oprah! Bringing the heat!
It’s easy to forget now that there were two bottom seeds poised to wreak havoc in the playoffs.
One of them won the Superbowl, and the other came as close to beating the aforementioned champs as anybody.
If Michael Vick spikes that ball, is he wearing Aaron Rodgers championship belt?
A day before the 2001 draft, the Atlanta Falcons traded up to grab the number one pick, partly because they were enamored with Vick, and partly because the Chargers were afraid to take him.
But what if they had? Under coach Norv Turner, would Vick have replicated his early success? Would he have avoided his eventual downfall?
My opinion? Probably not.
That cupboard was bare, and its restocking really began with the landing of Tomlinson and Brees (who only arrived at the expense of Vick), and didn’t fully accelerate until talented, but dictatorial A.J. Smith came on in 2003.
"Okay. That was a good question," they think.
But Oprah didn’t make more then a billion dollars on good. She doesn’t end an interview with the most intriguing quarterback of our time on good. Not as long as Ryan Braun is writing it. (I figure we'll publicize that before the show.)
Oprah walks off stage. WTF is going on.
I’ll tell you WTF is going on. The crowd starts chanting.
“Oprah. Oprah. Oprah.”
“Oprah! Oprah! Oprah!”
Oprah is back. And, well, she goes for the jugular. (Sorry.)
If you’re Michael Vick, don’t you kind of have to say yes?